Encountering Oz: A Magical Detour
by Sweetie7smiled
Summary: When a surprising encounter brings Edward to unobtrusively walk into Hogwarts, in order to be reunited with Bella post-Volterra, he is surprised to find that its magical residents are more aware of his nature than he had originally thought. What is a well-meaning vampire to do? An EM AUT storyette (#1) set during New Moon and OOTP; Canon loyal to both series' characters and worlds.
1. Arriving at Hogwarts

**Encountering Oz: A Magical Detour**

Author's Note: In the process of establishing the rules by which the Twilight and Harry Potter universes interact throughout my crossover stories, I've had occasion to create a number of smaller what-if storyettes… through which I've more thoroughly explored various aspects and possibilities of this united reality. I call them alternate universe tangents (AUTs) of my primary crossover story (Essentially Magical), being as none of them are actually a _part_ of or particularly _compatible_ with its storyline… and yet they each provide an interesting perspective on what perhaps could-have-been. _This_ was the first. I hope you enjoy it!

To set the stage: _Unlike __EM__, this storyette takes place at an imaginary point in time immediately __following__ the Spring Break of OOTP, when Umbridge is in attendance yet Dumbledore is still the acting Headmaster of Hogwarts. As well: owing to the final recollections of various portrait characters (who have been able to give first-hand accounts of their battles-to-the-death), wizards in this storyette __do__ know enough about the characteristics of undead vampires to be able to recognize them on sight (__if__ they are vigilant)… __and__ to know that no spell that makes contact with their skin- or any other of the typically assumed defenses- will be effective. Magical society doesn't know much more about them than this, however (since no __living__ wizard has met one in person, and there are none in portrait form), and thus remains much more familiar with (and inclined to remember) characteristics of the biologically __viable__ (and much less dangerous) vampire species indigenous to their community. In any case, since the use of protective shields during combat is only as effective, against an __undead__ vampire, as the same would be when used against the __killing__ curse (which means: they __aren't__ effective), the maintenance of illusory wards- preventing the admission of human-drinking creatures __into__ their domain- remains a wizard's only known defense._

* * *

*** * * Arriving at Hogwarts * * ***

On the way home from Volterra via London, while Alice is off doing some quick shopping for Edward (who has yet to shed the Volturi cloak, and instead has found the hood begrudgingly useful for protection from the morning sunlight), he and Bella find themselves walking down a sidewalk on their way back to the airport- when a commotion catches their attention.

Apparently, a desperately confused newborn vampire (currently standing in the shadows of the concealed dead-end alley he calls home) is threatening a trio of redheaded teenagers with sticks- who've recently happened in upon him. Strangely, though they've somehow recognized him for what he _is_ because of his _bright red eyes_, and have confidently backed themselves into the lone sunlit corner in order to _escape_ their predator- they also are desperately confused as to the atypical aspects of his appearance and demeanor. (Apparently, they are already familiar with the idea that _classical_ vampires _do_ in fact exist within their _magical_ community- and have supposed him to be one of them.) Laser-like lights and other magical defenses exploding from their wands are frantically being shot off towards their attacker- albeit with little to no physical effect. The only thing truly holding the newborn back from giving in to his thirst completely, is his own naïve fear of being burned by the sunlight.

All this is recognized as they're passing by the shadowed alley entrance, and so- as the newborn catches wind of _Bella's_ scent, suddenly Edward has to intervene. The two vampires lock eyes as Edward turns down the narrow street and walks carefully toward him… shrouded in the darkness of his cloak and growling inaudibly in warning. The newborn is terrified of his imposing visage, having previously heard tell of the fierce Italian cloaked guard. All the while, Edward warily maintains a hold on Bella's hand behind him until he is close enough to shunt her to the side- right next to where the young witch and her taller twin brothers are standing. He can tell they will attempt to protect _her_ from the hostile vampire's attack as well.

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is how they will do it. As soon as his attention is necessarily returned to the newborn in front of him, the two teenage wizards each imagine a place called Hogsmeade- and promptly disappear from the alley… taking their underage sister, _and Bella_, along with them. The magical humans had been _glad_ of the distraction Edward provided- although terrified that it had come in the form of what they assumed must be another vampire (as suggested by the ominous dark cloak he wore, and the intimidating impression he'd made on the demeanor of his peer; though they couldn't actually _tell_ anything else about him)- and were quick to take the opportunity to flee back towards their school, where they would feel protected. They couldn't in good conscience leave Bella behind.

Unsurprisingly, the situation in the alley quickly diffuses after that, and Edward is able to properly introduce himself to the nervous new vampire… and allay his fears. Alice joins them both shortly thereafter, bringing new clothes with her, and _thoughtfully_ comforts Edward with the assurance that he _will_ be able to locate the magical boarding school they are taking Bella to. Obviously, reuniting with Bella is now his primary concern.

As he's buttoning up his new shirt, though, her brother's secondary relief at the welcome change of attire is so amusedly pronounced that Alice sees fit to tease him about how quickly he shed the cloak. "Was it itchy or something?" she asks him innocently… knowing all the while that itchiness is in fact a _human_ ailment that vampires don't suffer from.

Edward smiles wryly at her teasing: "Only the invisible writing that says 'Volturi' all over it."

Her tinkling laugh rings through the alley, and the newborn's wariness is much relieved by their evident friendliness. After a few more words between them, of a coordinating nature, Edward politely takes his leave and follows after Bella, alone.

Being that the end of Forks High School's spring break is also the end of Hogwarts' spring break, and there is evidently a train station located within Hogsmeade (as had been clear in the young wizards' recollections), it is reasonable to assume that a number of students will be returning to the school via train. Thus, Edward's first stop is the local station. Once there, he finds it easy enough to figure out how to get onto the magical platform by paying attention to their thoughts… and discreetly chooses a solitary compartment to make the journey in. No one sees him enter.

Over time as he listens in, it becomes evident that while this society _is_ thoroughly convinced that vampires _exist_, they seem to have a decidedly classical and less-than-fatal mental picture of them. Characteristics such as _fangs_, red _bloodshot_ eyes (as different than red _irises_), and a gaunt no-more-than-human beauty don't particularly suggest an image that they might confuse _him_ with. However, the simple fact that these people are part of a more supernaturally _aware_ society suggests that he won't want to bring undue attention to himself. It's a good thing that he's only going to be here long enough to retrieve Bella. In the meantime, their thoughts _do_ provide a fascinating look into a community he's never encountered before.

A few hours later, the train stops in Hogsmeade station and the students' thoughts give him a clear idea of the way up to Hogwarts castle. Faster than the wind, he runs up to it sight unseen- stopping only just before entering the massive front doors, in order to seamlessly mingle with the small crowd trickling into the Great Hall. That's where _Bella_ is, after all, and she has been waiting for him for long enough. In fact, she's only _still_ here because they haven't been sure what to _do_ with her. She is believed to be an unremarkable _muggle_, and yet they haven't been able to erase her _memories_. (_! _ Edward necessarily suppresses a growl at this fact, just knowing that they've _tried_.) Evidently wizardkind has a secrecy code to uphold- as well as _he_ does- and she's seen too much. At the same time, being that she is also just a random person off the streets (as far as they know), neither can they trust her to be motivated or informed enough to keep their secret. They _don't_ know what to do about it. Hopefully, by posing as an out-of-town wizard friend of hers, he'll be able to address this issue briefly with the headmaster and promptly take her away without incident.

Edward makes it almost halfway up to the head table (which Bella is sitting at one end of, resting with her head laid down upon her arms in exhaustion), before alarm suddenly begins to spread among the residents. Apparently, upon their return- the three students from the alley had promptly shared the confusing details of their experience with a few of their more academically adept peers… and ultimately formulated a new theory: that they might have in fact been dealing with a member of the _Undead _Vampire species, rather than the wizarding world's indigenous (and comparatively harmless) variety. Consequently, they've all just finished giving themselves a refresher course on U-Vampire identification and response tactics, and had been primed and inclined to watch out for the set of species characteristics matching his _own_.

As soon as the first one of them whispers the word 'vampire' upon seeing his unfamiliarly black-eyed, pale, and inhumanly beautiful face- and others begin to take up the call in growing dismay and panic once they realize he is one of the lethal _undead_- their thoughts show Edward only _now_ that his presence within the bounds of this castle's protected grounds was previously believed to be _impossible_. Having inexplicably lost the heretofore unfailing protection of wards they've religiously maintained against the threat of his kind, they now know of _no_ effective defense against him. It would seem they are going to have a _mass_ panic on their hands in _very_ short order- very possibly extending throughout the _entire wizarding world_- if he doesn't stick around long enough to give them an explanation. They are feeling _extremely_ vulnerable.

Edward sighs, as he continues walking with inconspicuous vigilance. He didn't mean to do this to them! The situation is suddenly _so_ much more precarious than it had been- and with everyone so dangerously _aware_, his body is tense with both worry and wariness. But then, in response to their rumors he sees Bella lift her weary head and look at him- a happy grin immediately gracing her face- and all the rest doesn't matter for the moment. He smiles back at her, pleased to be nearly back with her again.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This storyette is just for fun. Although I had difficulty initially figuring out how Edward could ever be able to justify walking into such a precarious situation in quite this fashion, thus innocently becoming the cause of such a widespread panic, the what-if scenario that came of it was just too good to pass up!

FYI: This story is mostly but not quite finished being written. I anticipate about 11 chapters total (possibly more), and 8 of them are complete.

Thanks be to Stephenie Meyer and J. K. Rowling for writing the wonderful series this story is founded upon!

And finally: thanks for reading, I hope you've enjoyed it, and please review!


	2. Eventful Reunion

*** * * Eventful Reunion * * *  
**

Hearing the unexpected whispers of alarm, along with the swish of movement as everyone in the Hall quickly rises to their feet, Bella looks up from her sleepy position to see what it's all about. "Edward!" she whispers in happiness. Smiling largely, she stands up quickly from her seat at the head table and stumblingly rushes around to meet him (watching her feet as she does so, in order to navigate the steps) while he strides the remaining length of the hall toward her at human speed, eyes locked only on her.

Numerous thoughts throughout the room are struggling to recall the recommended protocol for encountering a member of what is reputed to be _the_ most _lethal_ species in _existence_. _Be inoffensively offensive. If you don't strike first, you may not get a chance at __all__… but don't do anything to make it mad. They're __extremely__ fast and strong, and __always__ fatal in an attack. Spells will __not__ penetrate their skin. Defensive distraction, followed by escape via disapparation, may be your only chance. Whatever you do: __Don't __bleed__… and pray it's not hungry._

Fearful of his dangerous presence, a number of the more panicked students and staff aim defensive spells at him- knowing that such would be ineffective, but unable to not try _something_. U-Vampires aren't reportedly familiar with magic, after all, so maybe it could be a good distraction. Understanding this from their thoughts, Edward dodges the beams of light smoothly- not wanting to give himself away but also unwilling to carelessly test himself out against their magic. The spells that had been meant for _him_ end up narrowly missing students on the other side of the room.

Following this casual display, wherein the vampire didn't even have to break his stride to remain untouched, most of the Slytherins abruptly run out of the Great Hall yelling in panic- putting as much distance as they can between him and them, as quickly as possible. The rest of those at the Slytherin house table, along with a selection of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, more silently make their way to the exit, not far behind.

During the commotion, a fiery swan-like bird pops into the room and settles onto the headmaster's shoulder, watching Edward keenly. On his other side, a giant-sized wizard, nearly twice as tall and half again as wide as anyone else in the room, quickly shuffles around the head table to position himself defensively near to the front of Dumbledore's position, and Edward's apparent destination. Theoretically, his only _half_-human heritage, combined with his giant-like bulk and thick skin, _may_ prove to be of more use in this situation than his underdeveloped magic would have been. _Besides, __ev'ry__ liv'n creature's got a friendly side, _he knows without a doubt. _Surely, he's got to hav' one too?!_ he imagines with grim optimism. He seems like a nice fellow.

Many of the teachers and brighter students have attempted to set up various kinds of _illusionary_ defense. A certain bushy-haired student witch begins by making herself and the two male students next to her become invisible to human sight, though for Edward- an eighth-color-of-the-rainbow distortion of the light still remains visible where they stand, and their heartbeats and thoughts remain audible. The castle ghosts swoop in to stand guard in any way they can for the visible students behind them. Mirages of people who don't really exist appear to be standing in front of many of the unguarded students that still remain. One crafty student manages to douse himself with the scent of garlic, somehow effectively diluting the strength of his own scent by doing so.

Another series of spells, performed by the smallest wizard of them all (a professor whose less-than-appealing scent pegs him as being only _part_ human), places a sequence of invisible perspective-altering fields directly in front of Edward's path- in hopes that he could be slowed down from posing so undefendable a threat to the lot of them. The charms master remembers having previously set ones of this type up for use in the Triwizard Maze, which caused a person's view of the world to turn disorientingly _upside-down_ or _backwards_ while one was within them. It's possible indirect magic would be of use here.

A fiercely defensive dark-haired professor sitting to the left of the headmaster chooses instead to enclose all the humans in attendance within a 6 foot wall of _real_ flame. As the adept wizard carefully draws out his spell (one apparently of his own design), and sets what he thinks might be the best parameter for it (venomous capability _has_ been speculated of the undead species of vampire, but _never_ confirmed), Edward notes that the vigorous magical fire will_ not_ actually spread away from the thin line it has been directed to burn in, _unless_ a venomous creature approaches it… in which case it would proceed to _spit_ parts of itself in his direction until either the threat was consumed, the creature deterred, or the spell was disbanded. _Fascinating. _Thankfully, the ring of fire is not-at-all too high or wide for a forewarned vampire to jump over without ever coming close.

A cloud of butterflies fills the room with a distractedly fluttering movement, very briefly cutting off visibility even though the insects instinctively leave a clear space in Edward's immediate vicinity. Almost instantly, the pristine space around him starts to expand in every direction, as the fluttering creatures promptly perch and still, fly out of the room, or otherwise venture up into the farthest corners of the area in order to offer him the widest berth possible. The witch who conjured them is surprised and dismayed by this unexpected shortcoming.

On top of the tables on either side of his position, an animated army of silverware and table dishes magically gathers together in preparation for attack at the least sign of provocation. It's almost comical. Around the room, lit candles floating ten feet off the ground over simple domed bases transform into blazing torches floating over gigantic shield-like chandeliers, ready to be wielded at a moment's notice… a motion understandably defensive in its intent, but also somewhat threatening. Clumps of garlic appear at frequent intervals upon every table across the hall.

Alongside him on the right, a number of wrapped confections-on-a-stick, which smell to him like a suspiciously iron- and sodium-rich _human_ food, float through the air in single file and come to rest in a neat pile on the head table closest to where he is heading. The apparently human-blood-flavored lollipops (purchased from the local wizards' candy store, and thankfully not odiferous enough to trigger _Bella's_ sensitivities) are being offered as a friendly alternative to his assumed normal diet… a surprisingly thoughtful idea, really, even if they don't actually have any appeal.

In her hurry to look up to see him again, Bella finally trips on air right in front of Dumbledore's place at the head table- while Edward is still only two-thirds of the way down the length of the Great Hall. In a burst of speed, Edward is suddenly standing in front of her- _inside_ the wall of fire and _past_ the illusion fields- holding her up gently… to the surprise and frightened alarm of everyone else in the room.

Immediately upon his arrival, however, the distraction of Albus' suddenly blindingly bright wand apparently catches Edward's attention more than any other magical attempt has. His now sparkling limbs instantly twist and freeze into a protectively and frighteningly threatening stance facing the grimly but boldly defensive headmaster, while remaining supportive of Bella's frame closely behind his own… shortly after which his refulgent visage becomes unexpectedly confused and then relaxes completely. Inexplicably, he turns back to face Bella as if disregarding the threat, and proceeds to greet her as he would have without the interruption. Around the room, as well as upon Bella's beautiful face, the reflected colors of the rainbow twist and writhe as if they were alive, visually creating the most effective magical distraction yet. The light's anxious but soothing movement, set to play out the symphony of Edward's mood, will shift threateningly and shape into psychedelic images at any sign of aggression. It's an impressive piece of magic.

"_Bella_," he exclaims in relief. "Are you alright?"

"Oh Edward!" she wraps her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "I thought I'd never see you again," she mumbles.

Edward hugs her tightly in reply and nuzzles her hair, breathing in her scent deeply. The room is eerily silent around them, the stunned occupants observing their unanticipated exchange with bated breath. "I'm so sorry. I'm here now. And I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Apparently, this place has been magically enchanted so as not to be locatable by someone who hasn't been here before; I had to take the train."

Nervous and fearful glances are shared around the room at this news, considering the arriving students haven't come in yet. It's bad enough that they already have a deadly vampire in their midst that they don't know what to do with… but could there be _more_ bad news waiting for them upon the passengers' return? At this point, the only magic they suspect might be strong enough to affect this vampire- would also harm _everyone else in the room_, at _least_ as badly. _Why__ aren't the wards __working__?!_ Their thoughts are despairingly desperate. Responsively, however, the witch commanding the silverware army sends out an incorporeally discreet patronus missive to redirect any arriving students into safer areas of the castle.

Bella nods, then looks around briefly- a little uncomfortable with being at the center of attention. "Where's Alice?" she asks him.

Edward replies cryptically: "She went swimming."

Bella suspects his vague reply is probably because of their very public situation, though he is also making no move to get them out of it. Maybe they would worry _more_ if he took her away. She is thoroughly confused by his statement, however.

Edward chuckles at her expression, then proceeds to explain what happened: "The newborn we met in the alley was able to calm down quickly enough, once your scents were out of the area. We talked to him. He is overwhelmed and unguided- but he seems nice enough. He might even like to join us. Alice is taking him home the long way, in order to keep him out of trouble."

Bella is still confused. "I thought she went sw… _Oh!_ Hah… the _long_ way," she mutters to herself. _Swimming = the Atlantic Ocean! Right._

Edward smirks in humor at her reaction.

Tentatively she inquires: "Will she be… okay… with him?"

Edward chuckles. "Of course she will. Alice knows what to _look_ out for; she can take care of herself."

Bella nods, mostly satisfied, and then asks curiously: "How long will it take them to get there?"

Edward's eyebrow raises in amused seriousness: "At this rate," _given their few-hour head-start, __and__ not having even secured new airline tickets for the trip home yet,_ "they're sure to beat us home."

Bella nods again thoughtfully, her expression becoming pained after a moment. "They told me you wouldn't be able to come here," she speaks quietly, hugging him with renewed vigor.

Edward pauses thoughtfully, recognizing the expectation that surprised him as well, and listens in on thoughts around the room in order to find out the reason why. Finally he offers: "Yeah, well- they also think my eyes are red."

"Ah," she replies as she leans back again, smiling up at him with a subtly proud expression as she traces his eyebrow. "They've never met a Cullen before."

Edward smiles back: "Apparently not."

* * *

**A/N:** The world of magic is a fascinating place! It was fun to dive in here. Thank you J. K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer, for the fantastic opportunity!


	3. The Wizards of Oz

*** * * The Wizards of Oz * * ***

Albus, and any other wizard or witch that has retained control of their faculties enough to appreciate Edward's revelation, wonders amazedly about what color _other than red_ his eyes could possibly be (underneath the blackness of thirst, that is)- and _how_ they could be that way. He is pleasantly astounded that Edward hasn't made _any_ motion of aggression toward anyone in the room- even though he has been benignly attacked by quite a few, probably is tempted by _everyone_, and _she_ remains in very close proximity.

Looking upon Edward and Bella from the opposite direction as the headmaster, the attention of one Harry Potter (one of the mostly-invisible student trio) has become captivated by the distinctive double-crescent _bite_ mark visible upon Bella's wrist, which he noticed shimmering unnaturally when she reached up to touch the vampire's face. _Surely__ my eyes must be deceiving me_! he imagines… _because if __that's__ what I __think__ it is… what it __looks__ like… it means not only that this type of vampire is devastatingly __venomous__ (shudder!), but that __she's__ got a survivor's scar every bit as significant as my __own__. … __How__? _Nudging his friends' similarly disillusioned shoulders (which he happens to be able to see only because they are under cover of the same spell), he quickly mimes his observation to them, by pointing to his own scar and wrist, then Bella's hand in turn. Hermione's panicked eyes are wide with alarm and surprise by the time she looks back to meet his. Ron remains fearfully perplexed.

While most of the teachers and Gryffindor students remain riveted by the fascinatingly unprecedented display in front of them, a bunch of the more frightened students still present- including a majority of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and a few of the Gryffindors- have backed themselves slowly toward the door of the Great Hall, in hopes of making a more discreet escape. Aside from their own sense of dread, the general consensus of thoughts in the room is one of disbelief: _She __couldn't__ know what he __is__… could she?!_

At the other end of the hall, cowering behind the more courageous teachers who are standing warily alert on the other side of the head table from Edward, an absolutely terrified Delores Umbridge feels way too unprotected. She would have happily run out of the room with the very first wave of Slytherins, if it hadn't been that she was stationed in such an unfortunately isolated position- where doing so would have focused too much attention upon herself. The best she can think to do at this point, is inch along towards the exit- while hugging the wall behind her. With a discreet flick of her wand, a silent command causes a number of the school's _house-elves_ to appear in a semi-circle around her- standing as a guard, and ready to _bleed_ for her if necessary, were she to be attacked. From her thoughts it is evident: she would be thoroughly willing to _sacrifice_ them, if it would save herself. Edward is disgusted.

While this is happening, another house-elf materializes protectively in front of the near-invisible trio, this time of its own accord. Harry in particular holds his loyalty.

Within an ornately framed landscape to the side of the head table, various odd characters from animated portraits throughout the castle have begun to congregate in order to see for themselves what is going on. The Slytherins' panic evidently had made quite an impression as they fled down the corridors- yelling about an _undead vampire_ in the building- and at least the portrait inhabitants don't have the worry of still being _human_ to deter them from attending.

Truly, the level of exposure and panic engendered by this incident has reached highly dangerous proportions already… and it seems there is very little he really could have done to prevent it. At this point, it is going to take quite a bit of careful diplomacy if there is to be _any_ hope of finding a delicate balance that both the vampire and wizarding worlds could live with.

* * *

A sudden wave of fatigue causes Bella to nearly collapse into Edward's prismatic arms. "You haven't been able to get any sleep, have you?" he surmises. "You look like you're about to faint with exhaustion."

Bella responds groggily: "I haven't had much of a chance to. I've been listening to the Wizard of Oz," indicating Dumbledore with a nod of her head, "and the Wicked Witch of the West," another vague nod, "debating over whether or not I could go back to Kansas. They seem to think I'm a _muggle_, yet can't figure out how I was able to see the _castle_ or why they couldn't tamper with my memories."

"I heard about that," his low voice reproves the culprits warningly. Edward's eyes briefly flash with anger at the thought of her memories being tampered with- though he realizes the practical motivation behind it, and is simply thankful she is immune. Finally, chuckling with immense relief as he holds her close, he comments: "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" His fingers trail down her cheek affectionately. "Don't worry. I'll get you back to Kansas."

Bella grins at him tiredly. "I know you will," she replies, positive that- at the very least- he would see her home safely from here. How long he will stay _after_ that is what worries her. "You're a rightful Prince Charming in disguise, you know…" she acknowledges, at least in part for the benefit of their worry-filled audience. _Just not mine anymore_, she laments quietly. "And a knight in shining armor beats the tin man's company _any _day."

Frowning at the unearned compliment, as well as the distinct impersonality of her statement, Edward shakes his head sadly in disagreement. By her own admission she's nearly _died_, at least _twice_, in his absence… from things he _should_ have been there to protect her from… not to mention that by leading her to Volterra, he _nearly_ was the cause of it _himself_ once again. "I am no more than a glorified scarecrow," he whispers, very conscious of the fact that everyone else still in the room remains terrified of him- as she rightfully has _every_ reason to be. _A brainless fool_, he continues silently, _who is desolately unworthy of you._

"Except that you keep a lot _more_ than just the tigers and bears away…" Bella finishes for him deliberately, thinking of the hole in her heart which remains blissfully absent while in his presence. Members of their audience imagine she must be referring to the other vampire that was in the alley, and Edward does as well.

He sighs. "So did the _tornado_," he observes wryly, "but that didn't make it any _less_ of a natural disaster. Next to something like that, even a _lion_ would be a sensible and companionable character." Edward subtly indicates the red and gold banner with a nod of his head, suggesting she'd be much safer seeking her fortune in the _magical_ world, than she would be in _his_.

Of course, underneath his obvious meaning, Edward is also imagining the word _lion_ to refer to his single biggest (and most devastatingly _miserable_) whopper of a _lie_. Trying to go that route _clearly_ didn't help anything, and he can't _imagine_ being able to do it _again_, but- avoidable disasters notwithstanding- he still can't say it couldn't have been the better choice. For _her_.

With some bit of surprise, the wizards realize that he seems to be promoting _their magical_ over _his muggle_ company… and they can't disagree with him.

She scoffs wearily. "_He_ wasn't what both saved the munchkins from the big bad witch _and_ gave her what she needed to get home without them. Face it: you're better than all _three_ of Dorothy's companions put together." Her voice is earnestly gentle, but pained. _Dorothy would be so lucky to have you_, her silent thoughts trail off longingly. _She'd never want to go __home__ if she had to give you up when she got there._

_Dorothy's companions were people she __loved__, at least_,Edward gazes into her eyes with desperate but patient longing, _even if they __were__ no more than friendly farm hands… __and__ her precious little dog. _He sighs. _I'd be more than happy to slop __pigs__ for the rest of my existence- if it meant I could stay __that__ close to her. _"Isn't that a bit like asking the tornado to take you back to Kansas?"

Shrugging, she replies in a quiet voice: "It brought me over the rainbow…" she reminisces their previous summer longingly, "…and I didn't even have to _ask_ for that."

The touch of sadness in her voice is painful for Edward to hear… as if she were remembering something they may _never_ have again. He couldn't blame _her_ for it if they didn't- because he _wanted_ her to move on, after all- but it hurts nonetheless. Of course, he had seen through Alice how much the wolf had _wanted_ her to stay for him… _and_ how bad she had felt for letting him down. "You give me entirely too much credit."

"I don't think so," she states evenly, looking directly into his troubled eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches upward in appreciation.

To the side of the hall and still behind the staff table, Delores Umbridge- unfamiliar with the Oz reference and remembering that the headmaster had been talking to both herself _and_ Professor McGonagall about what to do with Bella- turns fearfully to a teacher standing next to her and asks in not-so-very hushed tones: "Wh-wh-who is the Wicked Witch of the West?"

Edward and Bella pause to look at her in disbelief before resuming their interaction with slightly shaking heads. Hesitant snickers can be heard around the room from people who recognize the muggle literature reference and agree it most definitely applies to Umbridge.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and sharing!


	4. Wicked Witch of the West

*** * * Wicked Witch of the West * * *  
**

Presently, in coordination with the house-elves' effort to guard High Inquisitor Umbridge per her request, a goblet of magically preserved human blood (apparently procured from a stash of illicit potion ingredients in her possession) silently materializes onto the table next to Edward, right next to a pile of garlic and a couple of feet from the friendly pile of lollipops. Quite evidently Delores is unable to function rationally in a crisis, because this action (accidental though it may be) directly contradicts the ministry's recommendations for such an encounter. What her thoughts indicate was _intended_ as an offering to _appease_ his thirst non-fatally (at least, in regards to _herself_), instead irritates him by introducing a fragrance that is likely to make Bella _nauseous_. This woman is getting on his nerves. _Strike One._ At least _he_ is able to ignore the goblet easily enough- always keeping his focus, first and foremost, on _Bella's_ safety.

In other news, eventually appearing among the gathered portrait characters, are the Masens. Edward's shocked form freezes into stillness, wide eyes trained on the animated images of his parents, as soon as he notices them notice him. Although they aren't able to _recognize_ him right off, what with his sparkling skin and all, his features and mannerisms are subtly familiar enough to get them thinking about the son they lost, once upon a time. They miss him _terribly_… as much as he has missed them.

While he stands radiantly immobile, with his attention thus occupied, one terrified Delores Umbridge (who has by now inched her way past the side of the head table) seizes the opportunity to slyly target the muggle girl he's holding… in hopes of distracting him even more completely, and for a longer period of time, by causing _her_ to start uncontrollably dancing in his arms. She casts her spell silently (_Tarantallegra!_) and from a position behind his back where she assumes he won't be able to know who sent the spell. Edward, however, immediately breaks his pose to _catch_ the offending beam of light that had been headed for Bella- thus rendering it ineffective- and turns to look Umbridge straight in the eye with a deadly glare (leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that he knows who threw the spell): "I wouldn't be attacking _her_ if I were you." _Strike Two._

Numerous wizards and witches shiver with terror at the clear display of his ability to thwart an attempt at spell-magic without even needing to _see_ it coming. As well, it surprises them that: _He was __defending__ her? _That confusing response they simply don't understand. Ginny, however, recognizes with shock that this behavior _is_ much the same as his actions in the alley had been. _Had he been protecting __us__, then, too?_ It's hard to believe.

Surprised at the menacing tone of his voice, a slightly wan-looking Bella softly inquires of him: "What did she do?"

Edward's stance relaxes as he answers her straightforwardly, studying her expression as he does so. "She was trying to make you _dance_."

Bella looks horrified. And her paled and clammy skin just enhances the expressive effect.

Edward's lips twitch in amusement at her predictable response, thoroughly aware of her aversion to dancing in any venue. Teasingly, he offers her a goblet of water from the table beside them and steps them both (but mostly her) back away from its bloody neighbor. "If it bothers you _that_ much," he suggests, "you could always throw some _water_ on her. Maybe she'll melt." His tone sounds hopeful.

After a brief moment of absolute shock at the unrepentant boldness of his suggestion, Bella abruptly starts giggling at his oh-so-ridiculous yet serious reply (he must have _really_ been irritated by her thoughts!). "That's got to be… about… as likely… as _you_… turning into… a bat!" she laughs, a fit of giggles promptly attacking her so strongly that she starts choking on them, turning them into coughs. Edward grins in concerned amusement, shrugging in agreeable reply, and sets the goblet back down- watching her carefully. "Breathe, Bella," he half smiles.

Nodding at him, she pauses to catch her breath- her body bent over at the waist and still shuddering with residual humor as she looks down at the floor, supporting herself with her hands on her knees. The lack of sleep must _really_ be getting to her; she feels almost _drunk_ with tiredness. The air smells cleaner down here, though. Edward's comforting hand is on her back, his thumb tracing soothing circles.

When she finally calms enough to raise her head back up to notice Delores once again, it's just in time to see a miniature _raincloud_ suddenly take shape above the witch's head. As Bella watches in surprised amazement, it abruptly begins dumping water down upon the petrified stubby woman- the tiny storm tracking after her every movement no matter _how_ hard she tries to step out from under it- while simultaneously sparing anyone else that is situated in her vicinity. Everyone in the room is _astonished_ by this unexpected enchantment, especially being that no one can tell where it came from or who put it there (which tends to be the case with accidental magic)… but they each also find it so incredibly _fitting_ that the whole room is having difficulty hiding their laughter. Edward & Bella don't _have_ to hide theirs.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading and sharing your comments with me! Even if you do so signed in as a guest, such that I am unable to respond, I really do enjoy hearing that you enjoy it!


	5. A Dangerous Summons

*** * * A Dangerous Summons * * *  
**

As the transient humor is dying down, Edward becomes aware of an immensely tormented and complex consciousness that appears to be approaching the Great Hall. Looking toward the doors as a strangely frigid aura precedes her entrance into the room, he watches with first surprise, and then _horror_, as the dementor that was sent in response to Delores' earlier summons glides into the Great Hall… causing everyone's thoughts to quickly begin reflecting the _massively_ deleterious effect of her draining presence.

Bella slumps in his arms almost immediately, her pale face contorted into a frantic and terrified expression as she relives some truly horrible nightmare. _His_ emotions have plummeted as well, but the fact that her _living_ form is needing his protection takes precedence. She is his anchor.

Edward's now-desperate light show clearly illustrates the dementor's profound effect upon his person, as he non-aggressively braces himself to defend against the poor unwilling creature who nevertheless drains the hope and happiness out of everyone she comes near. It actually looks as if the vibrant color is being _sapped_ from every bit of his reflected light around the room- appearing as if the dementor were _pulling_ all of his vitality into itself- with the exception of that which has reflected upon Bella's unconscious form. Curiously, the unaffected rainbows upon _her_ person remain dancing brightly to the distinctive rhythm of her heartbeat.

Immediately upon entering, the dementor turns to regard Edward, and recognizes him as the threat she was sent to guard against. She can sense his considerable thirst, as well as the _increase_ of it with every moment of her debilitating proximity… and perceives that her presence directly conflicts with the Ministry's directive that brought her here. So, when Edward also realizes this and gently but firmly states "You need to leave," she does. Observers are appalled that one of the Ministry's own most feared enforcers would apparently receive and follow a _vampire's_ command without objection.

Unable to send a patronus its way without breaking the light spell (which he is not yet willing to do, being as Edward still presents the greater threat), Dumbledore ends up anxiously awaiting one of the other teachers to take up the slack. Beside him, the dark-haired wizard most quickly ready to do so is frustrated that he cannot, since- being the double agent he is, for both the Light and Dark factions- it would reveal the true nature of his allegiance to the forces of the Dark Lord. Once a silver tabby and stag finally circle the room in the wake of the dementor's departure, effectively chasing it out of the castle all the more quickly, bedlam erupts among all of the people still standing.

A couple of the attending students have also fainted, and their comrades are faithfully trying to rouse them. _Everyone_ has been significantly rattled, and is still feeling uncommonly cold. Bella is unconsciously shivering. The shrewd potions master has promptly directed the house-elves to begin passing out a restorative serving of _chocolate_ to each of the humans in attendance, and a few of them- having already taken a bite of it- are already feeling significantly revived.

In the attempt to humanly retrieve Bella's jacket from the back of her chair (located behind the far side of the head table), while still cradling her in his arms and not further scaring the residents with the use of quick movements, it unexpectedly 'accios' to Edward when he reaches for it. For a brief moment, his agitated expression morphs into a comical mix of surprise and disbelief- but since very few of the distracted residents happened to have been actively watching him at the time, it goes almost completely unnoticed. (The significantly less eye-catching nature of his now severely washed-out luminous display, coupled with the fact of having their _own_ crises to tend to, meant that only the Masens, and one or two others, had actually caught the moment. They're not sure how to interpret what they saw.)

As Edward half-kneels to put the jacket on her uniquely vibrant form, recumbent in his arms, he also tries to wake her up with soothing words and touches against her skin. He _needs_ her to wake up, so that she will be able to receive some of the chocolate remedy as well… before commencing her much-needed lengthy period of slumber, with an even _higher_ chance of nightmares. Thankfully, Bella is starting to stir.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore knows _immediately_ by whose hand the dementor had been summoned. Mentally acknowledging the fact that Edward has _still _made no attempt against them- though he's been clearly provoked- and wishing to head off their infamous ministry professor from _further_ undermining the already fragile situation, Albus firmly insists that Delores make no further attempts. Righteous fury is emanating off of him.

Feeling justified for her actions, however- especially in the face of the headmaster's apparent _acceptance_ of the two _invaders_- the drenched High Inquisitor stubbornly replies that "It's _policy_ to call for a dementor when dealing with supporters of _He-who-must-not-be-named_. _Surely_ you can tell he _is_ one… and she is _with_ him."

_Strike Three. _Edward doesn't appreciate the personal insinuation, _or_ the fact that she is subsequently using it against _Bella_, _or_ the fact that her actions up to this point have done nothing but make him _more_ dangerous for Bella to be around. Speaking directly to the offensive witch in a deceptively quiet voice, while rising to slowly approach her squat form with Bella carried bridal-style in his arms, he responds nonetheless irately: "You would accuse _her _of promoting the ideals of this _Voldemort_ character, simply because she is not _afraid_ of me?!"

Gasps sound around the room in response to the taboo name, and somewhat in surprise of his unafeared claim, while the sodden and outspoken professor _pales_ under his angry black glare. In terror, she shrinks back against the wall behind her.

"_I'm_ not the one willing to sacrifice _everyone else in this room_ in order to _live_ another day!" Edward points out in a carefully controlled voice. His audience perks slightly with the hopeful sentiment… that is, all but the quivering witch now directly in front of him. "Neither is it _her_ reactions, in panic, that have been making this situation _more dangerous_ for _every other person in attendance_… though she has more valid_ reason_ for such an attitude than _anyone else here_."

"If I were most any other_ vampire_…" another chorus of gasps accompany this frightening confirmation of his species, as he continues in a ominously hushed tone, "…you would have _already_ had a massacre on your hands… _triggered_ by one or more of the careless actions _you_ have instigated. My _patience_ with you has reached its end." Indicating the doors of the Great Hall with his right hand and body orientation, while his youthful gaze continues to bore into the dripping witch with shining and dangerous eyes, he concludes: "I don't _care_ _what_ authority you think you have. If you value your _life_: _Get. Out_."

As if in emphasis of these words, Edward's light show clearly illustrates that this is a defensive action on his part, rather than offensive, as the rainbows vibrantly shining upon Bella- in combination with _every_ critically faded spectral echo of the same throughout the rest of the room- take on the form of a _massive_ iridescent lion that savagely stalks toward Umbridge from above and behind him, sound-effectively accompanied by the just-audible rumble in his throat. Though most everyone else is unaware of the stipulation involved in this detail, _Dumbledore_ knows that- if Edward's mood had _not_ been defensive… whatever menacing shape it took would have threatened _him_ instead of _her_.

Sopping wet and utterly terrified, Hogwarts' tyrannical toad of a High Inquisitor lets out a feeble squeak and immediately runs out of the Great Hall as fast as she can… her shoes making sodden squishy noises against the hard floor as her own personal stormcloud follows above her loyally.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for enjoying, and sharing your interest! (Not to mention the unanimous rooting for the 'just' treatment of the resident wicked witch. Lol! Don't worry; it isn't over _yet_.) :)


	6. The Lion and the Lamb

*** * * The Lion and the Lamb * * *  
**

Smoothly working his movements around Bella's supine form in his arms, Edward pauses to tensely close his eyes, take a deep breath, and pinch the base of his nose in an effort to calm himself. In Delores' wake, the temperamental rainbows reflecting both brightly and palely from his form have become alarmingly stiff and brittle, as if the encounter had stretched him so thin that he felt ready to _break_ at any moment. His terrified audience has no doubt who would bear the brunt of it if he did; the colorless slivers of light shining upon _them_ look to be too much like prickly glass _needles_ that would easily pierce them if they had any substance.

Bella, who had become revived enough to hear the entirety of Edward's rant and witness the offending witch's undignified and hasty exit, now notices that the features of Edward's brilliant face appear to be more _exhausted_-looking than she has _ever_ before seen them, and that the emotions he is struggling to control easily rival those of the aftermath in Port Angeles. He needs a distraction. _Specifically_,she remembers, _something trivial and unimportant. _"For a moment there- I think she was even looking a little _green_," Bella helpfully offers. "It's really too bad she didn't melt."

Edward's frowning lips form upwards into a grim line, but are still too upset to smile. Every rainbow of his dichotomously washed-out aura seems to stretch even _longer_ in response, though each one seems also to have taken on less of a brittle disposition. _Thin __spears__ rather than needles, then. Very heartening… NOT._ Many in their fearful audience are shocked and dismayed that she would bring up talk of _this_ at such a volatile juncture.

Remembering how it seemed to help the last time this happened, Bella lets herself ramble on the theme, hoping to lighten the moment. "Maybe… the water just has to be thrown on her from a wooden bucket, or something… or while she's holding a broom. Or perhaps- a _house_ has to fall on her. Do you think a dollhouse would work? She's not exactly wearing ruby slippers."

_I could fix that_, Edward can't help but think in all seriousness, knowing how deserved such an injury would be… but of course, that's not what she meant to suggest. _Dollhouse, indeed. Nothing that would truly harm anyone. _Internal sigh. _I'm trying, Bella; I'm trying._

Edward's expression doesn't show much improvement, though he seems maybe a little more relaxed than he was. Around the room, his watered-down prismatic reflections begin to subtly vibrate like piano strings- no longer threatening to shatter. _He is __calming_, a few surprised thoughts gratefully observe._ How is it that she knows just what to say to him? _

Tiredly, Bella looks up at him with calm concern. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen you look _so tired_." Indeed, the deep purple shadows under his eyes have gotten so dark that they look black.

"You haven't." Though the tone of his voice is gentle, the shortness of his answer is telling.

"What's got you so riled up?" she asks quietly. "You're not usually this grumpy."

Edward grimaces and speaks softly: "Her little stunt with the dementor has just made me _insanely _more thirsty."

Bella's eyes widen with understanding… an expression abruptly and _frightfully_ mirrored by every one of the nearby observers. In _their_ minds, it is terrifyingly indisputable: if these depleted spectrums could in any way be an indication of how _thirsty _he is- especially compared to what he _had_ been- his light show _now_ looks downright _starved_. Accordingly, their heartbeats speed up with frantic nervousness. "_Oh._ I'm so sorry," she laments. Motioning weakly to indicate she's willing to stand up on her own, if it'll help… she quickly realizes that her limbs are just too tired to respond.

Edward sighs, stroking her face tenderly as he looks into her eyes. "_You_ have nothing to be sorry for." As their gazes lock comfortingly, the intensity subtly increasing between them as she more-than-willingly stares back without blinking, he slowly inhales a deep, unquestionably scorching, but calming breath- then exhales just as deeply, his overtired expression growing peaceful as he does so. Unwittingly in concert with this action, the vibrant mood-sensitive rainbows naturally reflected upon _her_ person grow impossibly brighter and brighter, until at last (as he exhales)- they each burst out with a brilliant shower of surplus white light. Immediately, the Great Hall is effulgent with color again- as if each watered down spectral counterpart had just been rejuvenated with a needed boost of essential vitality, from its source.

Silently, the whole room breathes a collective sigh of relief. _I don't know what it is, but __something__ seems to be going in our favor._

In consideration of Bella's need to blink (and breathe again), Edward's eyes close momentarily, releasing her from his gaze. "Thank you, Bella," he breathes, feeling much better- despite his overwhelming thirst- now that the mental focus of his mood has been properly realigned. Throughout the room, the wire-thin strings of vibrating spectral light begin to dance together in perfect harmony once again, as if they were playing a silent but happy symphony. To the few who are keenly observant, it is evident that the entire polyphony of fluid motion is revolving around_ her_. Come to think of it, they realize: it always has.

In light of this, and _completely_ satisfied with, at the very least, this _clear_ evidence of Edward's devotion towards _her_… as well as his non-aggressive attitude towards _all_ those who would be his _food_- even and _especially_ in the face of such as the dementor and _Umbridge_- Dumbledore ends the light show.

As soon as his wand is free for other use, the headmaster promptly sends out to someone named Kingsley (his foremost Auror confidant at the Ministry) both a thought-stream of _acknowledgement_- "_There is __indeed__ a U-vampire at Hogwarts_ (of which fact they've no doubt already been informed) _though he is __not__ being aggressive in any way_. _I repeat: he is __not__ being aggressive! This is a __diplomatic__ situation._" as well as the preemptively urgent request: "_Do __not __summon __him__! He has a __human__ willingly in tow. Please ensure she is kept safe!_" in hopes of protecting Bella from whatever efforts the Ministry might have otherwise ignorantly attempted against Edward, and also to keep the two of them from being separated from one another. Given the apparent level of devotion between them, such an action would _not_ likely bode well for anyone.

As Albus silently performs this much appreciated action, Edward becomes clued in as to the hidden magical threat that _any_ possibility of being summoned truly represents for the both of them… being that _he_, as an undead being, is inherently _susceptible_ to such a magical request- and that _she_, who would only accompany him if he _happened_ to be touching her skin at the time, would _not _be safe in the most likely (aka: physically taxing) environments he might be summoned _to_. _Not that it'd be __better__ leaving her __behind__!_ The images of too many recent near-death experiences remain all-too-fresh in his memory. In alarmed response to this awareness, he initiates a policy of staying in contact with her skin at _all_ times (which is not so far from what he had already been maintaining in his post-reunion desperation), and in the process- his thoughts unknowingly trigger an immunity toward the call of any potentially forthcoming involuntary summons, accidental courtesy of his and Bella's magical connection.

* * *

The Masens gasp as they finally get the first glimpse of their son, now unhindered by any sparkling interference. During the ensuing moment of absolute shock and amazement, a simple query after his name (which they hadn't been around to catch earlier, though some of the other portrait characters had) gives them the first real hint of the unimaginable truth standing in front of them.

In the midst of his parents' undeveloped but budding realization, and inwardly fearful of their potential reaction, Edward turns to politely address the headmaster while pointing to the goblet of blood still residing on the table between them. It's far enough away from them now for the scent not to be a bother to Bella, but its presence is not helping _him_ any. "Would you mind getting rid of _that _for me? I _really_ don't need any _more_ temptation right now." _Even if half its method of doing so is by simply __reminding__ me of __Umbridge's__ threatening actions._

Albus looks at what he's pointing at, and is abruptly surprised and alarmed to realize what it is. He _knows_ the effect that fresh blood has always reportedly had upon vampire sensitivities, so easily triggering their _lethal_ reactions… let alone one so depleted as _he_. With a prompt nod and flick of his wand, the goblet amenably disappears from the Great Hall.

"Thank you," Edward concludes appreciatively. Turning slightly away again, and shifting Bella's recumbent frame against his shoulder so that he can support her comfortably with only his right arm, he reaches over to a pile of chocolate sitting on the table and picks up a small chunk with his left hand. "_You_ need some _chocolate_," he states as he offers it to her gracefully. "Doctor's orders."

Bella looks at him in drowsy but humorous disbelief, though at the same time- thankful for the offer. "You're kidding, right?" she murmurs groggily, before taking it into her mouth.

"Nope. Prescribed Dementor Medical Practice 101," he teases; "…a Wizarding World crash course."Then his voice softens. "It will help you keep from reliving the nightmare."

"Thank you," she faintly nods and smiles at him appreciatively- shuddering slightly at the reminder, but starting to feel better already. _So __that__ was a __dementor__._

Eventually as she is finishing her chocolate, and her tired eyes are refusing to open more often than not, Bella drowsily recalls something _else_ unfamiliar from the earlier confrontation and curiously mumbles to Edward: "By the way, who is Voldemort?" Numerous gasps immediately sound around the room at the unexpected mention of his name, and her eyelids twitch open a crack in confusion. Some few of the wizards and witches present have the presence of mind to be curious as to how _Edward_ had known the name, when Umbridge hadn't been willing to _say_ it.

"A skilled dark wizard of a vampire wannabe," Edward replies with a shrug. "He terrorizes the entire wizarding world."

His audience is amazed at the factually straightforward yet unruffled assessment of the wizarding world's greatest tyrant, and a touch surprised at the suggestion that He-who-must-not-be-named could ever _want_ to be an undead vampire. Presumably, the _heartless_ undead are both _non-magical __and__ animalistic_ in nature, and such beings would _never_ be seen as more than second-class citizens of the magical world. Edward's actions, however, have been pretty effective at debunking at least _one_ of these claims. Still, to overcome the considerable drawbacks- his comment suggests he _knows_ that there is something pretty significant that vampires _have_, which Voldemort _wants_. _Such as an eternal life span_, Dumbledore supposes. _It would be a truly __horrible__ thing to see Voldemort live forever. I hope they realize this._

At Dumbledore's left, Professor Snape's wary stance remains determinedly skeptical and outwardly unmoved… though inwardly he is suitably impressed. _He's no agent of the Dark Lord; that much is certain._

"Eww," Bella observes sluggishly, managing to open her eyes slightly wider. "Kind of like Gianna, then, but on steroids."

Edward chuckles, dryly amused. "Something like that." He regards her with amazement, shaking his head in disbelief. "You have the strangest mind."

Bella smiles coyly, her eyelids drooping closed again. "All the better to stump you with."

Edward snorts under his breath, his lips twitching up into a smirk. "Tell me about it."

Dumbledore, being a legilimens himself, is starting to wonder whether or not these interactive clues, in combination with his inexplicable knowledge of the magical world, actually indicate a similar ability in Edward. If it _does_, there may be more to Bella than he thought, as well.

By now, Bella is _very_ sleepy. The encounter has truly worn her out. Her eyes are remaining closed now, and she is barely holding on to consciousness. "You can go to sleep, you know," Edward encourages her softly. "No one will bother you."

"But I need to _talk_ to you," Bella objects drowsily.

"I'll be here when you wake up. You can talk to me then," he assures her.

"Do you _promise_?" she asks him, with a hint of desperation in her voice. Her eyelids crack open just enough to be able to see his reply.

Edward gently lifts her limp fingers to his mouth and kisses the knuckles on the back of her right hand. "I promise," he replies solemnly.

Bella sighs, satisfied and evidently pleased. "Okay," she mumbles.

Then, as he starts to hum a few bars of her lullaby, stroking the side of her face and rocking gently as he does so, her eyes close of their own accord and she quickly relaxes into deep sleep cuddled up against his chest- _finally_ allowing the overwhelming tiredness of the day to overcome her. It is a very tender moment.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have to admit it's probably very wishful thinking on my part- that any group of even the _bravest_ members of the Wizarding World could react this _tamely_ to a ravenous vampire in their midst, no matter _how_ inoffensive he has yet been… but I guess I like to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Thanks for your wonderful reader support!


	7. Queries and Explanations

*** * * Queries and Explanations * * *  
**

Once Bella has fallen peacefully asleep in his arms, Edward looks up calmly to address his audience. "You have questions," he states, by way of invitation.

Dumbledore's eyes are sparkling with pleased interest in their unknown but evident relationship. He is amazed that Bella could feel so comfortable as to fall _asleep_ in the arms of a _vampire_… a _thirsty_ one, at that- let alone one of the_ immortal __undead_… and _very_ glad to have been given the opportunity to ask about it. As headmaster of the school and foremost wizard among his _mostly-human_ peers, however, he must unquestionably step forward and address the issue of safety first. "Yes, thank you," he breathes deeply, then asks carefully: "How are your eyes not red?" His tone is sincerely curious.

Unsurprised at this topic coming out first and foremost, Edward smiles wryly. "There are two reasons," he answers amenably. "The first you already know: I am thirsty. That's why they're so dark right now. The second, and most important, is that I don't hunt _humans_… _or_ any _other_ type of sentient creature," he adds belatedly, acknowledging that there are more than just full-humans present in the room. "My eyes are usually a golden color."

At this news, quiet sounds of amazement and relief spread through the relatively small crowd still remaining in the Hall- now situated mostly around the Gryffindor and staff tables. A surprised whispering picks up among those portrait characters that aren't shocked into silence. Over _all_ the centuries of its existence, _numerous_ bouts of effort with the wizarding world's indigenous vampire species has never yielded _one_ who was thoroughly willing to accept the less invasive (_and_ less appealing) human-food alternative that they were capable of. Now, here stands one of the much more formidable _undead_- who _has_! Can they even _eat_ human food?

Up until this point, the Masens had not been able to conclusively identify Edward as one of their own, though he had seemed achingly familiar. The names 'Edward' and 'Cullen', both separately mentioned in association with this bronze-headed vampire, _could_ have somehow been a coincidence. However, with the mention of his _golden eyes_, Elizabeth undeniably recognizes the essence of Carlisle's visage reflected in him- his gracefulness, pale skin, and perfected features- and subsequently realizes what must have been _his_ key role in the picture… as well as her _own_. Finally understanding, and quietly communicating as much to her husband (with a whispered gasp of excitement), that it really is _their_ Edward standing before them- she clasps her hands together as her eyes tear up, full of pride at how he's handled the situation.

Although his parents seem to have responded positively to the revelation, a fact which brings Edward a considerable amount of relief, he nevertheless remains nervous about bringing attention to their relation to him. It's not a little thing, to have become exposed as a vampire… let alone within an easily prejudiced magical world… and he doesn't want his status to become a stain against them.

"_Outstanding!_" the headmaster honors him in a reverent tone."But then-" confusion crosses his expression with the thought of how much hostility has been aimed at them, "why are you still here?" he wonders, curious about the fact that they've stayed around when it would have undoubtedly been _easier_ for them to have disappeared from public view already… _especially_ as tired as she is.

"Because I'm inside your wards," Edward replies simply. "Being that it was not my intention to create a _panic_, it seemed advisable to stick around and offer the explanation you needed."

"Thank you for that," Dumbledore appreciates freely, his relieved thoughts weighted with awareness of what the alternative _could_ have been. "I'm… Albus Dumbledore, by the way," he inclines his head slightly in a bow of greeting- which seems the most accommodating gesture of welcome for this unique scenario, "headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. These…" he gestures with his hand "would be some of the- _braver_- staff and students of Hogwarts. _Please_, I hope you will allow me to apologize for our less-than-welcome behavior in response to you. I'm afraid it's because we've never met anyone _like_ you before, and have only ever heard of the _worst_. On behalf of my school, _and_ the majority of the Wizarding World I'd like to hope- we truly mean no offense. I hope you understand."

Edward smiles gently. "I do, thank you. There are not so many of us who live non-traditionally, that you'd have been _likely_ to hear of it… and I don't know of _any _who reside in _Europe_. Nevertheless," with a brief glance, he acknowledges his parents' presence among their resident portrait characters, "I rather believe you know more about _me_ than you _think_ you do."

In curiosity, Albus looks briefly at the crowded portrait in question, and then back to Edward- trying to decipher his meaning. However, Edward doesn't offer anything further.

Presently, the headmaster's thoughts return to the goblet of fresh blood Edward had calmly disregarded earlier- which presumably embodied the _greatest temptation_ this whole experience could have afforded to _any_ vampire- and amazedly wonders aloud: "How is it that you are able to stand so _calmly_ in the face of temptation?" _All accounts have clearly indicated that the smell of fresh blood __instinctually __triggers__ lethal action._

Edward looks at him seriously. "You could not _possibly_ offer me anything _more potent_ than I already have in my arms," indicating Bella. "And," speaking more softly, but with an edge of warning, he continues: "I will not let _anything_ hurt _her_."

"She knows this." Albus points out keenly, awed and hoping for confirmation. _She clearly trusts him __implicitly__… and apparently has more __appeal__ than even the fresh __blood__ from __before__! Extraordinary! _His eyes twinkle with nearly-unbridled excitement at the unimaginable reality of this non-threatening predator in their midst. Every eye in the hall is riveted on their conversation.

Edward nods, and smiles affirmatively. "Yes," his tone is reverently affectionate. "She's a Gryffindor if ever I saw one."

_She certainly __is __brave__; I'll give him that! And his will is __impressive__. _"But… she can't do magic…" the headmaster puzzles aloud, trying to clarify. _Gryffindor __is__ a distinctly __magical __identification, after all… as well as being unique to Hogwarts. Did he __hear__ about it from one of __us__? _

Reflecting upon the peculiar coincidences of Delores' raincloud, _Bella's _flying jacket, and the implications of Dumbledore's _vampire_-core wand, Edward regards Bella with an odd look. "I'm not so sure," he muses.

Dumbledore is abruptly fascinated by his response, and his genuine curiosity is evident. _This sounds like a new development. Could it have something to do with his presence __here__? …or their relationship, perhaps?! _"Who is she to you?" Albus finally proposes the question he's been most interested to have answered, ever since he noticed their connection.

Edward glances tenderly at the image of Bella in his arms, and sighs with longing- wishing he knew _if_ she _could_, and desperately hoping _that_ she _will_ take him back. "She is my love," he says simply.

A muffled squeal of excitement is heard around the room, coming from one of the portrait's occupants. Edward smiles to himself, pleased at his mother's happiness. Glancing up discreetly, he winks at her warmly in acknowledgement. Dumbledore notices the curious exchange.

Beside the headmaster, Professor Snape has come to realize an intensely pained but profound respect for the vampire in front of him- in acknowledgement of the fact that Edward has managed to do what _he_ was unable to accomplish: both win the affection of his _Love_, _and_ keep her safe from an untimely death. _Oh, but that I could have done that also!_

_If only I knew that were true_, Edward frets sadly. _But at the very least, here and now we __are__ alive... __and__ together_,he rejoices quietly, hugging Bella just a little closer to himself as he treasures the moment. _I don't know __how__ we ever got so lucky as to be this way, but I __can't __discount the blessing._

In light of this reverent conclusion, and in respectful deference to the unwielded power clearly at the vampire's command, the bright Potions Master discontinues his spit-fire defense.

* * *

It turns out to be a very _proper-looking_ witch who humbly ventures to ask the next question of him; the deputy headmistress, in fact. Her gratefully relieved demeanor is cautiously optimistic, and her tentative voice carries an undercurrent of strong determination. _There's one more thing I __have__ to know. _"If I may ask… what made you think to defend her from Albus?" It really concerns her that Edward had been so ready to attack _he_ who _is_ their leader on the side of _light_. Albus is so deeply respected among them that it would have been a _devastating_ blow… and not only for her. _Truly, it would have been a dark victory against __all__ the ideals they stand for._ She _can't_ just let such a threat slide. The good headmaster has clearly earned her loyalty; she won't be able to stand down her defense (incidentally comprised of the animated silverware army at her command) without a suitable explanation of this event.

Edward smiles at the ironic memory. "Well…" he carefully chooses the best way to answer her, "let's just say that my senses tell me a lot _more_, about _my_ environment, than your senses tell _you_. Every wand puts forth a scent when it's used… and it's _because_ of this, that this room smells like a veritable _zoo_- filled with all _kinds_ of fantastically mythical creatures. What I didn't expect, however, was to smell another _vampire_ among them. It was a little disconcerting." Indeed, when he had first come on to Hogwarts' grounds- the odd traces of faded vampire scent scattered over the area had made the establishment appear no less frequented by the presence of his kind, than any other location might be. Now he knows better.

Everyone in the room is abruptly and thoroughly _shocked_. No one more so than _Albus_, however, who- though he had secretly _known_ his wand to have been one of legendary power- had _never_ suspected _this_. Apparently, _no one_ had known that such was even _possible_. They'd never _imagined_ a vampire-core wand before, having believed (or _hoped_, perhaps) that the most dangerously powerful predators out there were incapable of magic. So… the fact that one already _exists_ is singularly significant: Vampires _are_ magical creatures. Such evidence is indisputable. _Most_ don't want to believe it.

_Truly,_ Albus notices, _it is a frightening revelation… but also a very powerful and bewildering one._ _How did it happen? (Maybe a wizard turned vampire was involved?) But then… __why__ would they have never put that capability to __use__? (Magical forensics should have been able to pick up __some__ trace of vampire magic, over all these years… but they __never__ have.) _And now, it appears that he may no longer be the _only_ one aware of the unbeatable power his wand legendarily represents. _Not an ideal situation. Sigh._

Edward's apologetic expression is surprisingly sympathetic. "I take it that this is news to you," he intones softly. _This is not good; I wish Alice had been available to help me avoid this. _He hadn't known this information would put the headmaster into such a potentially _life_-threatening social position, _or_ so much more thoroughly scare the wizarding world with its implications.

"Yes," Dumbledore smiles back in subdued but cheerful reassurance. He holds no hard feelings against Edward for the unintentional exposé, and neither is he willing to let the more personally precarious situation dampen his outlook. "It certainly is fascinating!" he observes complimentarily. _That's__ an understatement. I wonder if he'd ever be willing to help us test out some of what undiscovered potential this most unique discovery suggests…_

* * *

**A/N: ** Thank you for your support and encouragement!_  
_


	8. Charge of the Light Brigade

*** * * Charge of the Light Brigade * * ***

As tremulous speculations on the magical vampire theme run rampant throughout the thoughts of everyone in the room, along with some degree of appreciation for his honesty, Edward becomes aware of an approaching set of new thoughts… the collective tenor of which is intrinsically _furious_, _hostile_, _determined_, _fearful_, _alarmed_, _frantic_, and thoroughly _desperate_. _Magical __humans__- including some who are family members of __students here. _It would appear that Delores has been _busy_ in her absence… which idea is unfortunately confirmed by the odd perspective of her thoughts- wherein she is standing at a fireplace upstairs, _dripping_ wet and utterly terrified, while leaning her head into a benign set of magical flames which allow her to be urgently speaking with the highest authorities of the Ministry of Magic. It seems they have promptly sent their most capable and willing reinforcements in response to her panicked alarm.

Grimacing lightly with exasperation, Edward informatively inserts into the noisy silence: "Your cavalry is coming."

The unexpected pronouncement momentarily side-tracks everyone's previous trains of thought- though the tension in the room remains. "Cavalry?" someone wonders aloud, trying to register Edward's meaning while simultaneously seeking for any clue his human senses can offer to confirm it. Nothing is detectable.

Edward nods calmly. "There's an army of angry witches and wizards headed this way."

Numerous eyes widen with concern and dreadful anticipation, contemplating nervously what a mass invasion could do to their delicate peace… as well as how good his hearing would have to be to pick up on their intentions from so far away, and through the thickness of castle walls. Does that mean he could be privy to _every_ unaware conversation that might be going on in the closed-off rooms around them? That's a scary thought!

In other news, a newcomer's most likely approach is going to be to shoot first and ask questions later, as theirs had been- only _now_, with _strength_ in numbers (theoretically) and the possibility of _coordinating_ their efforts, they might actually be intending to gang up on him with a simultaneous strike of their magic. With various other creatures, that's often been enough to get past whatever supernatural immunity to spellwork their thick skins provided. It might be the only chance they _have_ to shoot him now.

Amidst the nervously alarmed residents, most of them confused as to what they should do about their imminent dilemma, the identical twin redheads from the alley have summarily shed any lingering unfriendliness in favor of asking for clarification on which culprit they hopefully suspect is behind it all. "The wicked witch and her minions?!" they prompt excitedly. The two of them obviously _loved_ the Oz reference used earlier- _especially_ in the characterization of Delores Umbridge, and are mischievously anxious to hear more about it. Their anticipatory humor serves to lighten the tense atmosphere dramatically.

Appreciating their welcome diversion from the foreboding (even if easily avoidable) concerns affecting everyone in the room, Edward smirks slightly in amusement and casually cocks his head as if to listen closer. "Actually- there are no flying monkeys in _this_ bunch," he amenably informs them, to their delight. "In fact- anyone of _that_ caliber seems to be _curiously absent_. This is just a bunch of concerned citizens from the Ministry. They've been informed that a vampire is attacking Hogwarts." An edge has crept into his voice by the end of the last sentence.

_Attacking!? But that's not right! He's done anything __but__. Surely that toad Umbridge- or the Slytherins- must be behind this. _Many of the observers bristle indignantly at the presumption leveled against him, notably including the deputy headmistress. Edward is touched.

_Surely he couldn't mean… _Harry is additionally struck by the oddest impression, as he recalls the image of the basilisk's statue in the Chamber of Secrets. _Does he __know__ how much Salazar Slytherin resembled a monkey? No_, he decides; _that's gotta be coincidence._

Also of prominent interest among these thoughts, are Severus Snape's shrewd observations of Bella's sleeping profile in _her vampire's _arms. In company with a well-disguised hint of tenderness, the image has triggered him to recall the living image of his young friend Lily Potter, along with the all-too-familiarly _devastated_ thoughts of one who has lost his love to another, then unintentionally been the cause of her death. Edward can sympathize. For this fiercely distressed wizard, however, it was all _very real_. In recognition of the fact that any offensive toward Edward would end up placing _her_ into an even _more_ vulnerable position, finally the potions master asks of him: "What are you going to do about it?"

Forewarned of the approaching posse's intentions as he is (_and_ effortlessly capable of moving much faster than they could ever hope to react to), the wizard army _won't_ be able to do anything to him- even if their plan otherwise could have worked- though they're still going to _try_. Edward sighs. "It seems I'll have to disappear for a bit and let all of you handle them at first. I can't allow _her_ to be in the line of fire," Edward grimaces in frustration. _Truly, she shouldn't have to be part of this confrontation at __all__… and she wouldn't have __had__ to be- except that, under the potential threat of a __summons__, it is still better than letting her be __separated__ from me… in this dangerously volatile environment. "And the __Wicked __Witch__ strikes __again__!" _he irritably mumbles under his breath… quickly giving rise to a more vocal burst of aggravation. "How can you _stand_ having that woman as a _teacher_ here?" he asks sincerely of no one in particular.

Throughout the room, muffled but appreciative snickers sound out from a number of the staff and students alike- along with the silent twitches of even _more_ discreetly upturned mouths- as their thoughts in unison reveal just how much they'd _really_ like to be rid of her. _Hmmm_, Edward's eyebrow rises interestedly at the consensus. He might just help them out with that.

As the first of the school's would-be rescuers finally can be heard nearing the front doors of the castle, with a polite "Excuse me," Edward abruptly vanishes from human view in a light swirl of breeze. The foreign air current immediately encircles the entire room, effectively obscuring the path to his hidden destination that is located somewhere within it.

_Clever_, Albus the wake of this sudden disappearance, the startled human residents can't help but look around in fascinated astonishment- trying in vain to locate him.

* * *

They aren't looking for very long. Almost immediately, the sound of the castle's front doors crashing open with a bang causes everyone's heads to turn toward the noise- as the newly arriving crowd rushes into the Great Hall, _frantic_ for the welfare of those inside it.

They are mystified by the calmness of the scene.

Immediately their eyes search among the occupants for the predatory intruder that _clearly_ isn't there, and Albus steps forward with a placating voice to try and salvage the situation. _No_, no one's been attacked or hurt; _Yes,_ a vampire's been here- and still is; _No,_ he didn't come here intending any harm; _Yes,_ they've all had a bit of a scare; _No,_ there hasn't been _any_ aggression on his part; _Yes, _he is in fact a member of the undead population; _No,_ his presence here was an accident, and he remained to help us fix it; _Yes_, he's been quite friendly and cooperative; _No_, he doesn't apparently hunt humans; _Yes,_ he has a muggle human companion…

Edward is utterly still, stooped low and watching the whole scene from atop one of the gigantic convex chandelier bases suspended above the Gryffindor table. The torch in front of him mostly shields him from view, while it hides Bella completely, and he is grateful for the efforts of those who have been in attendance from the beginning. Some few of the newcomers are calming down from their initial terror, though they are as yet _far_ from convinced. The undead vampire species is _not_ to be taken _lightly_.

Resting peacefully in the crook of his right arm, her head right up against his shoulder such that every warm breath caresses his neck welcomingly, Bella's eyelids flutter briefly as she shifts into a new part of her sleep cycle.

On the floor below them, those that have just arrived are clearly having trouble being able to imagine a _friendly_ vampire image, not having witnessed it themselves. Popular opinion recently promoted about the good headmaster by the wizarding newspaper _isn't_ helping, though everyone else has readily supported his report of events. Some are (very wishfully) doubting that a vampire was in fact ever even _present_; maybe it had all been a false alarm. Albus is confident in his assertions, however, and those that are inclined to respect him are trying to believe. It's not easy.

And so, the venerable wizard offers them evidence from his _own_ wand of the light spell that was performed just prior to their appearance- by emitting a smoky echo of dancing spectrums for their viewing pleasure, and launching into an explanation of the nuances that were inherent to it. This is how he _knows_ the nature of this vampire's motivations, after all, and that he had at _no_ time harbored an attitude of aggression. It's important that this be clearly understood. The resident students and staff in particular are fascinated to hear these insightful details, having witnessed the whole thing themselves without realizing all it had meant. This new perspective of the foregoing events is very welcome.

But it has also made clear, to those that had initially doubted it, that an undead vampire _has in fact_ been _present_ within the school's warded boundaries- not to mention inside the castle walls!- making them all the more on edge about the conclusion that he _still is_. _Inherently malignant creatures, the lot of them…_

It is with this frame of mind that, in the very next moment, an indistinct mumble originating from slightly above their heads causes such a startling and frightened reaction. Immediately, the gaze of one of the Ministry's distrusting new arrivals snaps up to look in the direction of the sound- and takes notice of the barely discernible crouched human-like profile atop one of the convex torch bases. Reflexively, he shoots a panicked spell toward the ominously hidden target.

The wizard's aim is off, however. And so, rather than being able to simply _catch_ the beam of light that would have benignly dissipated against his skin (as the one earlier had done), Edward feels his perch dislodge from underneath him. Evidently, the spell has broken it from its magical suspension… and they are falling.

_Immediately_, and with supernatural _quickness_, Edward responds by lithely twisting and bending his body nearly double in mid-descent, as he expertly maneuvers the hazardous chandelier base underfoot to where he can safely balance it- jagged-side-up on his free hand- in time to land with catlike finesse right between the startled students it would have fallen upon. Bella is barely jostled during the effort.

Tossing the massive object harmlessly onto the floor beside them, as the nearest students hurriedly scoot just a _little_ bit further away from his unexpected proximity, Edward turns calmly to face the spooked ministry officials who are still on guard. "I'd be a little more _careful_ with those, if I were you," he admonishes them, indicating their outstretched wands.

Then, as he steps back slightly in order to give the grateful but nervous students a little more comfort room, Bella mumbles again in her sleep… and this time her words are clearly audible. "_Stop!_ Jane, _please_… Don't hurt him!" she pleads, unconsciously clutching at the fabric of his shirt. Edward's glance toward her sleeping form is full of tender concern as his free hand moves responsively to the side of her head and his thumb gently strokes the hair away from her face.

Naturally, the newcomers are astonished to witness this.

* * *

**A/N:** This is the last ready-to-publish chapter I have handy for this storyette, though it is _not_ the end of the story. Consequently, in a fortnight, my next post will be either a new chapter of Essentially Magical, or the beginning chapter of another EM storyette. In either case, don't worry! There will be more great things to come in _this_ story, as soon as the focus of my writing flow permits. :)

Thank you all very much for your support!


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